


Compete for the Heart

by SuccubustyKisses



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, The Witcher AU, Witcher Keith, Witcher Shiro, a scene where they fight some mutated/demonic dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-26 20:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30111849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubustyKisses/pseuds/SuccubustyKisses
Summary: Keith, it’s been a long time.” Violet eyes, still rimmed in gold from a potion’s effects turn a glare up to him. “I thought we were going in as a group?”The glare immediately turns to disgust and Keith scoffs. “I don’t need the help of inferior witchers.”Before Shiro can reply Keith stands up and stomps up the steps, a loud slam following shortly after. Shiro sighs loudly, slumping down into a chair and signaling the barkeep. “That could have gone better. Can’t believe my own apprentice called me inferior.”His fingers tap on the counter as an idea comes to mind, lips raising in a slow smile. “Guess I just have to show him differently.”
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	Compete for the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my second piece for the Lionhearted hero Sheith zine. Thr amazing artist for this one is rainyfeet on tumblr http://rainyfeet.tumblr.com so please give them love.

Walking through the woods at night has always been relaxing to Shiro, the white lion of Garrison. Letting the glow of the moonlight guide him as his ears listen for approaching monsters. He keeps his sword ready to be drawn at all times, just in case. He heads for the town of Olkari, a peaceful farming village that’s been plagued by attacks from an infestation of Chromatic Golem with no clue as to where they’ve been coming from.

According to his summons, two of his witcher brethren have already fallen to the town’s cursed fate. Because of this, they’ve summoned all the local witchers to come to the town and work together to relieve the people of their plague. As he approaches the town a frown creases his brow, his ears picking up what sounds like cheers of joy, rather than cries of anguish.

Breaching the tree line confirms his suspicions as Shiro looks at the town, brightly lit with torches and full of drunken joy. Something must have happened to the Golem, but that makes no sense. There was only one other living Witcher in the area closer than him to the village.

He walks into the small crowd, following the noise to the closest tavern, known to be the best place to gather information in his opinions. The minute he opens the door his eyes settle on pale flesh, stained in mud, and a mop of dark hair with a tree branch stuck inside it. The owner of said messy hair looks annoyed, brow twitching with restrained anger as another person slaps him on the back, giving cheers, causing him to slosh some of his drink onto the bartop.

Licking his lips, Shiro’s eyes trace the delicate line of his jaw and the bloodstained bandage there. His clothes are sleek, dark leather that molds to his body and makes his mouth water. Even covered in mud and brush, he’s the most beautiful thing Shiro has ever seen, and Shiro’s battled sirens. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly he walks up to the bar, leaning against the counter and looking down at the witcher scowling at the mess that was his drink.

“Keith, it’s been a long time.” Violet eyes, still rimmed in gold from a potion’s effects turn a glare up to him. “I thought we were going in as a group?”

The glare immediately turns to disgust and Keith scoffs. “I don’t need the help of inferior witchers.”

Before Shiro can reply Keith stands up and stomps up the steps, a loud slam following shortly after. Shiro sighs loudly, slumping down into a chair and signaling the barkeep. “That could have gone better. Can’t believe my own apprentice called me inferior.”

His fingers tap on the counter as an idea comes to mind, lips raising in a slow smile. “Guess I just have to show him differently.”

* * *

Keith is anxious, a buzzing feeling running along under his skin. He's itching for a challenge, his instincts telling him he needs to fight, to battle, to win. But, the lands have been peaceful lately.

Too peaceful, honestly.

He doesn't understand why his area has been so easy to wander. Why is it he hasn't come across any campsites that have been savagely ripped apart? Or patches of bodies being ripped to shreds and consumed? Why barely any villages have needed his aid.

Witchers are meant to fight, to kill. Without doing that, they just feel _wrong_.

He just feels wrong.

He heads into a town that sent word of their livestock disappearing with only strange prints left behind. Probably a simple theft ring, or a starving hound. Maybe if he's lucky it'll be a giant centipede. They have plenty of parts to sell and the kill can be quite satisfactory.

As he heads towards the stables to drop off Kosmo, his horse, he puts his nose to the air, curious to see if he can smell anything. Immediately, his nose picks up the thick, metallic stench of blood in the air. Drawn to the prospect of finally relieving the itch under his skin he veers his horse towards the scent.

The closer he gets to the stables, the more he knows something is wrong. It smells wrong, cold, clotting, and too sweet to be that of a cow, or a man. His suspicions are confirmed as he nearly walks into a massive black horse, laden down with blood- soaked parts, mostly legs from the look of it.

His brows furrow, knitting together in frustration. The horse turns to look at him, and Keith immediately recognizes it. Anger bubbling in his chest as he looks around, unsurprised to find a mass of black and white hair.

Shiro looks up from the booth where he's selling a bundle of bug-like legs. He tilts his head over, spotting Keith standing next to his horse with Kosmo. Immediately an overconfident grin spreads across his face.

Keith's blood boils. How dare he?! How dare he stay in Keith's area, disrespect him by taking his kill, then show no remorse. Keith looks back at him, teeth grinding together to hold in an animalistic growl.

Before Shiro can take even one step to approach him, Keith is grabbing Kosmo's reins and stomping off back to the edge of the city. Hopefully this will give him a head start for the next kill.

hr />

Taking down a hoard of drowned dead was never one of Shiro's favorite things to do. One was enough for him, but a whole group of them? He can feel his body suffering from poison as he limps into the lakeside town, ready to collect the second half of his payment.

He's going to need a healer, a bed to rest, and a new shirt. Damn, and he liked this one, too. Dragging his feet through the darkened town he leans against Black, trusting his horse to keep him up and steady as he heads for the town hall. Luckily this is a bigger village, the people lured in by the beautiful lake, so his chances of finding a good healer so he doesn't have to suffer the poisons out are more likely… if they haven't used all their antidote on the victims in their care already.

Arriving at the town center he pats Black weakly before squaring his shoulders and pushing forward. The doors are so close, just a little bit further. He's reaching for the handle when the door swings open with an angry slam.

Immediately Shiro's vision is filled with dark hair, pale flesh, and glowing violet eyes. _Keith._ His apprentice always did have trouble with his temper.

The younger Witcher's eyes look him over, taking in the damage before growling low. Shiro barely resists stepping back as an angry fist is jammed in his face, finger practically pressed to his nose. "You can't keep me from hunting forever."

Shiro opens his mouth to respond, intending to make a comeback, maybe a confession as to what he's doing. Keith doesn't give him the opportunity, simply shoving a potion against his chest and stomping off. Silver eyes look down over the potion, obviously a cure for the Drowned Dead's poisons.

Turning, Shiro shakes his head to fight off the dizziness in time to see Keith mounting his horse. He glances back, eyes less violent now as he looks at Shiro. He almost looks… worried.

"You look to be on death's door, Silver Fox. Take the potion before I end up hunting your ass next." With that, he kicks off, and disappears into the silence of the night.

Shiro sighs, looking down at the potion with a soft smile, maybe… just maybe he isn't completely crazy. He pops the cork, downing the potion in one quick, trained gulp, then turns back to the opened doorway so he can collect the rest of his fee.

* * *

Finally, after months of nothing. His name drug through the dirt, people calling him the tabby cat instead of the Red Lion. Finally, Keith got a good job, something strong he can hunt, something to get his blood pumping and help him forget about emotions and life and just _live for the hunt._

He can prove to Shiro once and for all he is stronger, a worthy Witcher. Not someone to be coddled and punished like a disobedient child.

Preparing his satchel of potions, he hitches Kosmo outside of the town the rogue sorceress is said to be hiding in. Fingers itching to grip his sword he pushes through the trees and into the open and sees… a regular small town. The streets have people walking through them, most looking confused and lost as if they'd lost gaps of time and are trying to piece together where they are and how they got there.

Cursing, he turns on his heel, knowing immediately what he'll find as he heads for the local tavern. He stomps inside, unsurprised when his eyes land on disheveled dark hair, the familiar white streak pushed back haphazardly as Shiro looks annoyed down at a cup of ale.

Keith snaps, footsteps landing hard on the wooden planks of the floor as he moves up to the bar and turns on Shiro. "Where is she?"

Shiro flinches, a moment of uncertainty crossing his face before it goes hard. He turns his glare over to Keith, blood dried on his cheek from a small cut. He lifts his drink, probably prolonging the moment on purpose to piss Keith off as he sips his drink.

"She got away." He finally admits practically into his ale, before taking another, longer swig.

"Good." Keith immediately growls out, he stands taller with a grin on his face. His eyes move over Shiro’s form, checking for any signs of serious injury or curses. Satisfied he is mostly unharmed, Keith takes Shiro’s drink from his hand. He downs the rest of it in one gulp before turning his overconfident smile to his old mentor. “Then stay out of it, She’s mine.”

“No, absolutely not.” Shiro scoffs, snatching his drink back and frowning at the empty mug. “You’re not going after her alone. We’ll go in as a team.”

“No.” Keith growls, moving to leave now and hopefully catch her trail, unfortunately, a cold grip wraps around his wrist and he freezes, looking down at the metallic arm he remembers from all his time of training. “I don’t need your help, Shiro.”

“Please, Keith. Just this once.” Shiro’s grip tightens, and his face shows something Keith can’t be sure of, something he swears he shouldn’t see. Emotions.

He pulls his arm away and walks off without a word, headed for Kosmo. If Shiro wants to come that bad, he can catch up himself.

* * *

Shiro watches as Keith stomps through the brush, and he feels guilt low in his gut. This is his fault. He’s the reason Keith feels like this. Clearly he took this too far, he should have just talked to Keith rather than doing this. They move through the trees, their horses a few paces behind following obediently without being led, properly trained for their jobs.

He licks his lips. He should tell him the truth, come clean about what he’s been doing. It’s the only way to make things right.

“Keith I-” He starts, but a ghastly howl sounds from the air around them, cutting off his words. Immediately Keith has his sword drawn, ready to go. Leaves rustle to their left, and a massive, smoking dog comes walking through, it’s eyes a solid black and fangs dripping iridescence, probably poison. Another dog comes from the other side, then another, and another. They all look to be different breeds, one massive and covered in glowing fur, another tiny with pin-needle teeth.

There are seven total, and they reek of magical tampering. Dark magic. Shiro’s heart clenches watching them lurk closer, knowing they’ll have to kill them to move on. Innocent souls left to suffer.

“Looks like your Sorceress left us a trap.” Shiro huffs, pulling his own sword.

Keith scoffs, pressing his own back against Shiro’s in a warm line. “If you hadn’t come in here she’d have been dead by now and we wouldn’t have to deal with her little experiments.”

The smallest one is the first to lunge, teeth bared as it flies through the air towards Shiro’s arm. He moves quickly to bat it aside, sending it flying into a trunk of a tree. He thanks the higher powers that the creatures seem to not feel pain. Momentarily distracted he nearly gets bit by a larger one, slashing his sword and making it jump back.

He feels Keith moving behind him, perfectly in sync with his attacks. A trained hunter who always completed his missions without question. A perfect, beautiful being.

Shiro sighs, he has to come clean.

“Keith, I don’t think you’re incompeteant. I know you’re more than capable of hunting on your own. You’re the best Witcher to surface in decades.” Shiro kicks out, wishing the shadow hounds would just go away and let them talk.

“If that’s true, then why do you keep stealing my hunts, Shiro?” Keith growls, or one of the hounds does. Shiro honestly isn’t sure which it is. “This is my assigned territory. Why are you doing this to me?”

“Well, our territory does coincide with each other, so technically it’s mine too… But, that isn’t the point here.” Shiro finally gives up on being nice and slashes at one of the hounds in one sharp swoop, leaving the creature motionless on the ground. “I just wanted you to see that I’m not weak. I may be the _Silver Fox_ but I’m not weak. I can hunt just as well as you can.”

“What does it matter if I think you’re weak?” Keith questions while swinging his blade at a massive hound. “Which you aren’t, by the way. I never thought you were weak, Shiro.”

Keith can feel his cheeks burning even as he swings, bringing down another of their opponents. “Because I wanted you to notice me, Keith.”

“Why?” Keith’s voice sounds momentarily strained, but quickly clears before he continues. “Why do you care now? You didn’t before, when you were training me. You didn’t care one bit about what I thought about you, Shiro. So why now?”

“Because you’re beautiful, Keith. When I was training you I was too blinded by my own feelings to notice. But now, now I see it. You’re beautiful, and competent. Perfect, and amazing... and I want to team up with you and travel together.” Shiro lets the words rush out of his mouth unhindered. The feelings he’s held in, escaping into the air around them with only Keith and the remaining shadow hounds there to hear them.

“You want to, what?” Keith sounds utterly confused, reminding Shiro of the days when they worked together before. Keith was open to learn, always asking questions and putting in his own input for what he thinks would work better. “Witchers travel alone, Shiro. You’re the one that told me that and I accepted it.”

“That's because I was hurting. I’m still hurting.” Shiro admits, nearly getting bit because he was too distracted thinking of the past. “I used to travel with a man. A soldier named Adam. We worked together to take out the monsters that threatened people, because he wanted to make the world a better place… and I wanted to be with him. Adam was killed because he was with me instead of staying safe in a town like a soldier should be.”

“Then why change your mind now?” Keith huffs, moving in time with Shiro as they wait for the next hound to lunge. “What makes now any differently than then?”

Shiro stops, letting his sword droop in his grip. “Because I love you, Keith.”

Keith freezes, Shiro can feel his body going taut for only a second before he’s whipping around to stare at Shiro with wide eyes. His mouth opens and closes a few times without sound, and Shiro moves around him to chase off an approaching hound at his back. Finally, the words escape from Keith’s throat where they were trapped. “Excuse me, you _what?!”_

“I love you, Keith.” Shiro repeats it, feeling more confident with every time as he takes down another of their opponents. “I love you, and I want to be your partner. Not just as a witcher, but as a man. I want to be able to touch and hold you and tell you every day how much you truly mean to me.”

“You’re an idiot.” Keith’s face is twisted in fury, and he turns to take down the smallest of the hounds.

Shiro’s heart feels like it falls into his stomach, he turns away, choosing to focus on the remaining hounds rather than Keith’s rejection. He considers apologizing again, promising to stay away. His mouth opens to do just that, but Keith cuts him off.

“You’re such an idiot, Shiro. I can’t believe you never noticed.” Keith turns to him, gaze intense and angry. “I’ve been in love with you from the moment I met you. The day they introduced you to me and said you would be my mentor I knew I would do anything for you. Not because you’re my elder, not because you’re the senior Witcher who taught me everything I know. But, because you’re gorgeous, and fierce, yet kind and supportive. You’re everything anyone could possibly ever dream of. A living wet dream. The day you said I couldn’t travel with you I felt like I lost a piece of myself because all I wanted was to stay by your side forever.”

Shiro’s arms droop, his jaw slack as he stares back at Keith. “Oh.”

 _”Oh?_ ” Keith huffs, a small chuckle escaping his quirked lips. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

Instead of answering in words, Shiro decides to answer in actions. He reaches out, grabbing the front of Keith’s red shirt and pulling him close. Their lips crash together, kiss hard and uncoordinated, but perfect all in itself.

They push apart just in time to shift positions, protecting each other’s backs and taking down the last two hounds. It takes a minute for them to calm down, for their heart rates to settle as they look around at the piles of ash where each body landed, burning lightly at the grass around them. Keith grins, punching Shiro on the arm. “I knew we’d work well together. It’s just a shame you couldn’t see it sooner.”

* * *

Their camp is simple, that way they can pack it up easily and move on. Just a fire big enough to cook their food, the horses grazing nearby, and a blanket where the two Witcher sit together, watching their meal slowly warm up. They’re sitting close, Shiro settled on a log while Keith sits between his legs, letting his elder comb his fingers through his hair and pull out the twigs and tangles. It’s comforting, warm, and makes Keith’s toes curl with happiness.

Once the tangles seem to be tamed, Shiro wraps his arms around Keith’s shoulders. He sinks down until his head is resting on Keith’s shoulder and lets out a soft sigh. Keith looks over at him, watching as Shiro stares at the soft flames blazing in front of them. A smile pulls at his lips and he shifts, pressing a kiss to Shiro’s cheek, right at the corner of his lips.

Shiro startles, looking over at Keith with wide eyes. His mouth pulls into a soft smile and he relaxes back down against Keith. “What was that for?”

“I’m glad you lied to me.” Keith says with a grin, leaning his head against Shiro’s.

“Lied to you?” Shiro frowns, brows knit together in an adorable way that Keith wants to kiss away. “What did I lie to you about?”

“You said a Witcher could never be wed.” Keith feels butterflies bubbling in his stomach, as Shiro shifts behind him.

“Keith, we aren’t married.” Shiro points out with an amused look on his face, his cheeks tinted red with a blush.

“No,” Keith smirks. Settling against Shiro with a confidence in his chest he’s gained from years of hunting as a Witcher. “But, we could be.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!
> 
> Please consider hitting that Kudos button and maybe leaving a comment? Even just an emoji of a heart will make my day.
> 
> Also, a second time saying the artist can be found at http://rainyfeet.tumblr.com


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